David Tang, sometime Sai Kung resident and full-time self-publicist, bursts into print, again

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Love him or loathe him, Sir David Tang is a colourful character. The sometime Sai Kung resident with a seaside house near the country park has now published a book, “Rules for Modern Life*”. It turns out to be mainly a compilation of his Financial Times columns.

People who like David say he is witty, salty, entertaining and so candid as to be charming: He writes about his liver transplant, hip replacement and psoriasis, exacerbated by cigar smoking. He is 62.  Those who dislike David say he is a self-publicising, social-climbing crawler and poseur who buys his way to the top with inherited wealth. He is the grandson of Tang Shiu Kin, who founded Kowloon Motor Bus.

In his FT column David can be very funny.  Asked recently by a reader what present he would buy for Donald Trump, he said, “A fishnet hairnet”.

One chap wrote, “David — I like you, in a completely non-sexual way. Is this an acceptable feeling for a man? Kind regards, Andre’. Tang replied, “Not if your name is Andre’.”

Daft questions from FT readers seem to be the norm. A reader wanted to know if it was acceptable for his friend to decorate his home with stuffed animals.  David‘s reply, in part: “I hope your friend lives in a baronial hall, for otherwise a stuffed bear head will look out of place and pretentious, however humourous he tries to be. On taxidermy for decoration, I would only recommend it for works of art. It would be splendid if Damien Hirst’s life-size stuffed cow floating in formaldehyde were to be found, in say, a massive larder. Or Cai Guo-Qiang’s absolutely extraordinary leaping wolves and tigers cascading across a grand entrance hall? What I don’t particularly like is seeing those colonial macho hunters who adorn their homes with their conquests, which are redolent of brutality rather than masculinity and steeped in white mischief. But my biggest problem with stuffed animals is that they are frightening in the dark. I don’t exactly like to be scared out of my wits. My wife is enough.”

Another reader asked about a footnote signed Ed in one of David‘s columns, which alleged that David “tinkles” the plastics on an electronic keyboard, as opposed to the ivories on a piano. The reader said surely he meant “tickles”. David‘s reply: “First of all Ed. stands for an editor. Have you never read Private Eye? Second, my editor is a woman, not a man. Third the predicate is always ‘tinkle’ and never ‘tickle’, ivories or not. Therefore you are ignorant on the first count; presumptuous on your second; and uneducated on your third. Anything else?”

Sir David Tang Anthony Prise Wing-Cheung KBE, OBE, Chevalier de Peu Importe has never been seen in the Sai Kung pub, the Duke of York.  In fact to the best of our knowledge he has never been seen in town at all. His Hong Kong haunts are the China Club, which he founded, Cipriani, ditto, and the First Class lounges at CLK as he prepares to fly to London. It is normal, he tells us, for him to fly backward and forward between Hong Kong and London 14 times a fortnight. In London he has three residences at Belgravia, Picadilly and Hyde Park. All are famously cluttered. See his amusing tangles with the FT’s talented Lucy Kellaway. In London he has established the China Tang Restaurant in the Dorchester, Tang Tang Tang Tang lifestyle store for middle-class Chinese and the China Exchange, a debating salon in Chinatown.

His mobile does not give off a ringtone, we are told.  It has a plummy butler’s voice saying, “Excuse me, Sir, but I am afraid there is someone trying to contact you. Shall I tell them to f— off?”

“Rules for Modern Life” is available at Kidnapped bookstore.

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David Tang’s new book offers wit and erudition as he responds to daft, banal questions from Financial Times readers. Credit: Australian Financial Review (AFR)

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